Hope Springs
by JLvE
Summary: My entry to the July Fic-a-thon 2014. Based upon the movie Hope Springs.
1. Chapter 1

**So I am covering the 22****nd**** of July's Fic-a-thon. Which is an awesome thing organised by Punky_96, muchos creditos to her! However, I failed a bit, as you can see the word count is not anywhere near the 5K. There are several reasons for this, which will be explained in the short summary of: my muse sucked. **

**However, this is only the first chapter of 6 (yes, I finally am writing a multichap in which I know where/how to end). So do not despair, there is more to come! **

**The title (and story) is loosely/strictly (up to you to decide) based on the lovely movie of Hope Springs. Some years ago there was something going on with stories based upon Meryl's other movies, and it seemed like a fun thing to do, hence the reason for this story. However, DWP and a marriage without passion between Andy and Miranda was not something I could envision, therefore I changed a few things and everything turned a little (a lot) unrealistic. Luckily for me realistic was not one of the requirements when signing up on . **

**Of course I do not own anything. Like, completely nothing. Everything belongs from the people who made up both DWP and HS, and I just admire from afar and wish I could walk in heels as well as MP does. **

**So… Here goes. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Hope Springs**

Low sun casts long shadows. It wipes away both your shortness, as well as your ugliness. Shadows are only an equal shade of dark, they do not possess any facial expression. It was therefore, Miranda decided, that is was much more pleasurable to watch Irv's shadow then himself. Unfortunately her reputation wouldn't allow it to not look the man in the eye, and besides: her character wouldn't either. So she watched him approach her with one of his sly smiles that he thought were covering his maleficent intentions. She had seen baboons with arms full of stolen bananas do better.

'Mrs. Priestly,' he never stopped the formal greeting, at least not directly towards her.

'Irv.' She greeted back. She too put on a sly smile. Yet he fell for it. His shoulders relaxing and his ego seemed to grow. 'Do take a seat. 'She pointed towards the uncomfortable chair in front of her desk which he took obediently. Since Paris he showed little signs of being intimidated by her. 'I am unaware we had scheduled an appointment but as you are here I assume you are having a pressing matter on hand?'. She did not believe her own words for a second. 'Let me reschedule my afternoon appointments, Em-'

'Oh no. that is not necessary. It will only take a minute.' Another smile and he fidgeted a little in his seat. Cleared his throat and put on a stern face. 'As you know you've been in your position for almost … what is it… 15 years now?'

It was 17 years. She knew Irv knew. She was not going correct him. She just kept her smile on. 'Am I going to receive a not-so-surprise-party?'.

He laughed. It was fake. 'Oh but I know how you dislike surprises.' She smiled with him. Then he put on his stern/grave like face again. 'I am here because I did not want to let this surprise you at the board meeting,-' Which meant he wanted to give her this blow himself, at the board meeting someone else might take that moment of glory.

'-A member of the team has done some research and it is most unfortunate that I have to tell you but, as you know Elias-Clarcke has its foundations as an European company. And with our roots we kept some policies.'

Something was about to come, something she was not going to like. She dearly hoped for 'that member of the team' that they hadn't come up with something compromising her position, or otherwise she would make them pay. Gravely.

'For instance regarding to maternity leave, which is approximately 20 weeks instead of the regular twelve .' She knew that policy. She hadn't used it but when the twins we coming she had considered it for a moment. Hectic got a whole new dimension that year. 'Yes. I am aware of our origins.' She tried to push him gently in the direction of getting to the point.

'But that is not the only one, we've incorporated several of the European approaches, mostly related to social support and Human Resources. Needless to say those policies apply to everyone within employment, regardless of their position within the corporation.' He reminded her that she still was on pay check. An exorbitant high pay check but a pay check nonetheless.

'I see. And the reason you are telling me is because a certain policy had come into conflict regarding my… decisions concerning those policies?' She already understood. He was going to talk about the amount of assistants she hired and fired. A classic critique, but minor inconvenience if she had to cut short in that area. Less circulation of second assistants was not a problem, she silently knew she could even manage with just Andrea. But it was good to have a backup in case the girl had sudden urges to flee. It had happened before. She looked at the man who was trying to keep up his 'empathy' face while little glistering in his eyes tried to show the pleasure he was getting out of bothering her.

'I am afraid so. I do not know how to tell you this but…'

You have to let go of one assistant.

'-…you've worked too much.'

What? She only rose one eyebrow. 'Worked… too much?'

'Yes. According to the European Collective Employment Agreements you are not allowed to go without more than halve a decade without the mandatory two weeks of vacation. Those need to be spent in contiguous sequence. Even more so when you work a lot of overtime. Now we are a little more flexible but as you haven't taken a day off within nine years….

'Yes?'

It is of necessity that you go on a vacation.

'My apologies?' Miranda looked at him as if he had just sprouted two heads. Was this some kind of joke?

'And because we value your immense… benefit to this company, I've taken the liberty to arrange a full week of vacation. We cleared your schedule-'

'I beg you a pardon?' He had done what?!

'Don't worry it is just one week, everything is fully arranged.'

One week?! The man had lost his already degrading mind. As if she would ever go on a vacation for a week, willingly. Two days with the girls were lovely but exhausting.

He chuckled a bit uncomfortable. ' On the house of course. As of next Monday, you will be heading towards the lovely and rustic town of Stonington Borough in Maine. Here are your tickets. Two of them, because a vacation is always better shared, don't you think?' He winked. She would rather step down then share a wink this pathetic man, but forced herself to show another fake laugh. 'Well I guess this is not bad news at al then? How lovely. I shall enjoy it immensely. Thank you Irv.' She accepted the envelope he held out to her.

He nodded enthusiastically. Thinking she'd buy his plan and pleased that he knew she hated to leave her work. 'Well, I shall leave you to your job then. I know how busy your schedule is. I am glad you take this inconvenience so well.' He started to walk away. 'Good afternoon Mrs. Priestly, and enjoy your well-deserved free time.' He winked again.

She was not amused.

However, a quick research into Elias-Clarcke policies showed her that he was right. She was forced to take a week off. Bastard! Apparently she had no other option than going. Well, then, if he thought she couldn't rule from a different place then her office, he would get very disappointed over the week. It took a little more than a forced week away to get her out of employment. It was, in fact, one of his weaker attempts.

Angry she glared at the tickets on her desk. Two because a vacation is always better shared. His words echoed in her ears. She didn't have a partner, he knew very well. Her divorce was finalized within three months after fashion week two years ago. Since then page six had speculated, but she hadn't dated anyone. Stephen had been a lesson well learned. Obligatory sex and a fortune were not enough compensate for separate bedrooms or lack of emotional involvement. Though she had been clear about the more contract based nature of their marriage, he had believed that she would change for him, over time and fall in love with him. The opposite happened, and that was that.

And her girls were at their father. The little man had planned it well. She pinched her nose. A sign of exasperation. Then she stood up, her decision already made.

* * *

Irv had left Miranda's office over five minutes ago, with a glimmer in his pork-like eyes, and still her boss' door hadn't opened. It made Andrea worried. The little man was always plotting against Miranda, while he had no reason to, other than that she didn't allow his ego to grow because she beat him every time to his plans.

She wondered what was going on, and doubted if she should bring the coffee she immediately had fixed when she saw Irv approaching. Miranda always needed coffee after meetings with him.

Suddenly the doors swung open and Miranda strode along her desk in marching pace. 'Coat, bag, coffee. Andrea clear my schedule for next week. Completely. Then clear yours, of everything that can't be done outside of the office, including the running of errands. Then pack a bag. You're coming with me.'

'Yes Miranda.' She retrieved the woman's coat as well as her own.

'What are you doing?' Miranda looked scrutinizing at her. Her eyes always made Andrea feel nervous. And other things.

'I am coming... with… you?'

'Don't be silly. Not now. Next week. Oh, and don't forget a coat. It can be chilly in Maine, even this time of year.' She took her coat from Andy's surprised hands and walked out the office.

Maine? Andy thought. 'Why would they be going to fucking Maine?'


	2. Chapter 2

**Hii,  
So I was a little overwhelmed by all your follows/favourites/reviews. I am… amazed and extremely happy. I do have to admit they also make me a little nervous. Please don't expect too much. This will not be a magnificent story with many plot twists and in depth characters or something, merely a simple version of… I dunno… the movie Hope Springs (great, awesome way to put down your own work, but, just to cover the bases and not create unrealistic expectations). **

**Thanks to jh728 For putting the link on LJ! And thanks to jehc for helping me sort a few things out ****. It appears that I made a lame mistake. Because I didn't like the name Hope Springs for a town, I googled the 'real' town where they shot the movie. Which was Stonington Borough. So I just assumed that Stonington was located in the state of Maine, because the movie talks about Hope Springs, Maine. But Stonington Borough is actually located in Connecticut (errorrrr by me). However, as this is fiction, in this story Stonington Borough will remain located in Maine. After all, nothing is true about this story anyway :P.**

**As a last reminder: it still is unrealistic. The merging of such different worlds (HS and DWP) is not possible for me without letting things be a little… AU/OOC. Enjoy!**

* * *

There was nothing in Maine that could make Miranda happy. Nothing that would get her on a better track. Maine equalled waste of time and therefore Andy would be paying. She knew that for sure. Over the weekend she had Googled everything about the little city. That didn't take her that long, there was nothing to do in Stonington, Maine. It apparently was a small city, more like a village, surrounded by lots of green and woods at three sides and lots of sea on the fourth side. Average temperature in May, 57 degrees. Local food, anything with lobster. Miranda detested lobster. Not really believing Miranda would do a vacation Andy packed for a variety of situations, both business and social. And one set of comfy clothes, just in case miracles happened and the bizarre situation of a holiday was occurring.

But she didn't count on it. Because Miranda's mood was below freezing point this morning. Roy had brought them to the airport, where an awful small passengers airplane (Andrea saw the words plebeian written all over Miranda's face) would bring them to Stonington. With snide remarks towards everybody and everything they had made it through the flight. Although two flight attendants could not say the same about their job. From there on a car was waiting –without driver- and Andy had taken the keys to bring them to the little town. They were driving for ten minutes before Miranda did not hold her disapproval inside anymore. The corners of her mouth pointing downwards when softly asking.

'How far is this… place.' She made it sound as if it was Neanderthal colony.

'Just a couple of hours.' Andy tried to let her voice be gentle. She was unaccustomed to this feeling. Normally she was in charge of paving the way for Miranda while having the complete control of all the possible factors influencing the situation. Now she was summoned here while Irv held that control. She hadn't been able to access the travel information until this morning when Irv gave her all the addresses and a schedule of their 'holiday activities'. There had been no WiFi on the plane, so she hadn't been able to research and check the content of his – without doubt, after seeing the plane- horrible arrangements.

'A couple of hours could bring us to Paris.'

That comment surprised and shocked Andy. Normally Miranda avoided everything that conspired around Paris when they were alone. As if she acknowledged that what happened there two years ago was edging on personal feelings instead of work-sphere. Personal feelings that were different for each of them. Miranda's memories most likely evolving around her divorce, while Andy's involved around… well, as everything did: around her boss.

She tried to ease up the tension, now fully loaded inside the car. 'Or Canada. Either cases we shall need our French vocabulary.' Miranda didn't acknowledge her joke and just stared out of the window. Andy sighed a little and drove on.

Miranda, in fact, did not acknowledge Andy at all until they were arriving five hours later when it was already dark. Andy tried to slowly pass along the buildings, searching for the address Irv's map had given. There was no name to it, but a number and a street. They passed a hotel which was quite decent, but it was not the one they were booked. She considered for a second to just stop there and use her assistant skills to arrange a room, but the moment she slowed down Miranda said: 'that is not our address' without looking away from the window. Apparently Miranda had not closed herself off so much she couldn't predict Andy's actions. Andy didn't understand, Miranda was tired. She saw it in the fine lines around her mouth that showed after a long day of disappointments. Which meant that not only Andy was already proving to be a disappointment, but that the hotel that Irv had booked for them had better to be damn golden good.

They turned into a side street and finally she saw a little sign indicating it was the street where their Hotel was located. Number 42…. Number 42… There! There it was. Andy eyes lit up.

Only to gasp in surprise as well as despair a second after that. No. No this was not happening. An Econolodge? An. Econo. Lodge. Right. This was really not happening, she prayed. Irv could start packing very warm clothes because by the end of this week (or this hour, a likely possibility) he would be sent somewhere to the north pole. Miranda would make sure of that. And if Andy was lucky she could join him. For she better come up with something good to prevent this from happening.

Miranda was already looking at her with an arched eyebrow and pursed lips.

'I will go inside and rebook the room into the other hotel. Be right back Miranda.' A huff and a dismissive sigh were her answer.

* * *

But no such luck. There were no rooms free at the other hotel. All was booked with a waiting list until September. Even after she mentioned (threatened really) that it was for Miranda Priestly. She could add the answer 'Even if she was the English Queen there would still be a waiting list' to her unique responses collection. She sighed again. Tired of being this big failure just a few hours into their journey. There were no other hotels apart from the Econolodge, which was almost full too, and apparently people were not amused if you arrived after dinner time to check in. Whatever this place was, it was one hell of a touristy thing mixed with old-fashion countryside morals regarding work hours. Another point of worry. Tourists annoyed Miranda almost as much as the absence of coffee. And coffee seemed to be absent if everything was closed. Luckily the woman of the Econolodge had some pity on her and brought her two cups of freshly brewed coffee with milk. Andy could really hug her at that moment.

Walking back she saw no point in procrastinating.

'I'm so sorry Miranda, there is nothing available in this whole town and-'

'Tales of you incompetence do not interest me.' With agitated steps she walked right behind Andrea, into the reception to sort things out herself. Ten minutes after that she appeared in the doorstep, and swung her head as if to say: get in here. Apparently Stonington, Maine was quite resistant to the ice queen.

* * *

The room turned out to be ugly shades of brown, like all cheap motels were. Miranda was in painful contrast against all this dullness and middleclassness. This was a room where people got killed because they cheated on their spouse but got caught because said spouse had suspected something and had installed a microphone into the car. This was a room where newly-retired couples celebrated their free time by going on short city trips. A room where teenagers booked for two and smuggled two others inside to manage even cheaper accommodation on their road trip. Not a room for the world most famous fashion maven and her assistant on their forced 'vacation'.

And then, after the freaking plane and the awful drive and the horrible room colour, the last disaster made itself known: the bed. The absence of one to be precise. There was only one, a small double-bed. Not even addressing the issue of hygiene or sheet colours, the bed was not going to be shared and Andy knew it. Still, she couldn't help envision for a moment Miranda and herself in the bed. Forced to be close yet refusing to touch. The thought made her blush. Miranda looked at her with a piercing glare that said: don't even dare to think about sharing a bed. It coloured her cheeks even more. 'I'll guess I'll go see if the couch has a pullout' she mumbled. Miranda disappeared into the bathroom.

After making her bed Andy tried to go over the schedule as calm as possible. Perhaps it would get Miranda in a little better mood if they both knew what was coming. At least going over the schedule always calmed Andy herself. Nothing as soothing then the knowledge that you had at least some control over the day.

When Miranda returned she spoke as non-committal as she could. 'Tomorrow we have an appointment with mister Feld at 10:30. It is not stated what kind of activity it is, but throughout the week we meet every morning with him. Unless of course you wish to change schedule. I already set the alarm. There is no WiFi here, but I shall change our accommodations tomorrow and sort out the content of Irv's schedule tomorrow morning in the little internet café . I texted Nigel to let him know we arrived, he said there were no major things during the day. He sent the book electronically. You can go over it tomorrow morning.' Miranda nodded but only said 'the bathroom is free to use, I am going to call the girls.' Andy understood the implied demand for privacy and took a shower.

After Andy returned it already was dark. A clear sign by Miranda that she was not pleased ad wished to ignore Andy's incapability to be her first assistant properly. Tiredly Andy slid under the covers. But going over possible solutions to this big mess, and being so near to her boss in such unguarded state caused hours of rumination and little sleep 'till the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**So its been like a year since I updated this story haha. I am sorry. yet this is the proof that while it might look like I abandoned a story, it is in fact still living ;).  
The chapter is not the best. But you know. Any movement is better then none?**

* * *

'Is there a building in this place that not has any shutters? This whole town looks like it's been built by Hansel and Gretel.'

They were walking down the street, Miranda had refused to use the car for god-knew-what-reason. Their morning had been as quiet as possible. Miranda ignoring much of Andrea, while Andrea desperately tried to accommodate all of Miranda's needs. Which turned out to be, surprisingly, little. Miranda was a fast and early riser, as expected, and it cost no more then 2- minutes to transform into full boss. Andrea tried not to think about how lovely Miranda had looked before the ritual. However, as impeccable she looked after a short shower in a building that probably was the most 'commoner'-like she had within twenty years, her mood required coffee. Good coffee. Andrea had managed to get a cup downstairs in the breakfast-area but could already tell by the smell and looks of it (in a can on a warming-plate) that it seriously wouldn't do to have breakfast there.

So she was relieved to find that Miranda only murmured 'what is this? Leftovers from last year?' yet still took a few sips before demanding that Andrea got her 'a coffee that didn't also qualified as motor oil' and that was why they were now walking downtown. Which was about one long street. Stonington was not that widespread.

It was sunny though a chilly breeze blew through the streets and Andrea tried to enjoy the first rays full of vitamin B. However, Miranda did not care for vitamins.

'I believe I asked you for a decent cup of coffee. Preferably within this zip code.'

Hurried and strategically Andrea walked a little towards the middle of the road so she was able to see both sides of the street. There wasn't much traffic anyway. Carless city. Perhaps because it was only one letter away from careless? On a corner about fifty yards from them she saw a small breakfast place which seemed to fit Miranda's profile best. At least there was the picture of coffee beans on the front door. Which indicated at least an interest in the substance. Inside it was a little crowded but quiet. Most people were in soft conversation and there were lots of elderly people. Finding a small place in the sunlight, Miranda took the opportunity to slip out her sunglasses and put them demonstratively on. Clearly not interested in having to engage with anyone.

Andrea tried to smile reassuringly to let her boss know she would take care of breakfast. Which she got paid for to do so anyway, but she hoped her smile gave Miranda some extra space. Hiring an assistant and trusting your assistant were two different things. Unfortunately, after picking up a menu-card Andrea knew that no amount of coffee could compensate for the lobster-bre1akfast. Eggs with lobster. Roasted lobster. Lobster Taco's. Toast with lobster. Lobster sushi. _Great._

'Have you made a choice?' A short haired waitress with a crème pink uniform and a little white apron smiled friendly at them. Andrea smiled in return. Miranda turned her head away, apparently not prepared to spill her well-treasured words to the waitress. Andy took this as a cue that she would be ordering.

'Two double semi skimmed latte without foam and an extra shot. And would you perhaps have something without lobster in it?'She gave the waitress her most pleading as well as pleasing look. The waitress gave a little smile and scribbled the coffee order down. 'Of course. Toast, doughnuts, pancakes.'

'Eh, and something perhaps without carbs? You see my stomach…'

Miranda raised an eyebrow. The waitress did too. She wasn't surprised, she had never been good at lying.

'Yoghurt with fruit and turmeric.'

She tried to glance at Miranda, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

'Yes please. That'd be great. Thank you.'

'Alright. Two semi skimmed lattes no foam and two yoghurt with fruit and turmeric coming up.' The waitress didn't even assume Miranda was approachable.

* * *

Walking up the front lane of their supposed appointment brought back the nerves. Breakfast had been a silent albeit quite comfortable affair, but now they were back on Irv's schedule again and Andy knew that wouldn't prove to be relaxing or vacation-like at all. Even if it would have been a 5-star resort where the blankets had golden edges, Miranda would resist Irv's schedule every step of the way. Their feud was way too deep to not to.

They stood in front of a white, wooden house. It was considered new, if you would compare it to the houses within the village. However modern it would never be. It had the same country-side style that inflicted feelings of cosiness to most people. To Andrea it just represented another item on the list of this failure trip. In the front yard there was a green board with in white paint calligraphed letters stating Dr. Feld on it. It swung slightly in the wind.

'If this man suggests one word about hiking the woods I am leaving.'  
It was somewhat in between an order and an explanation, which meant even Miranda was a little off. Pretending to look relaxed Andrea smiled and rang the doorbell.

* * *

'Good morning, I am Doctor Bernard Feld. Nice to meet you.' A man with a gentle look on his face held out his hand. Andy shook it and prayed to all the deities that the doctor part in his title referred to a scientific career in fashion design. But his extremely boring sand-coloured blazer with equally coloured tie and slightly lighter shirt already revealed that this wasn't the case. It would be a miracle if Miranda didn't walk out after giving him one glance.

Which she didn't. To Andy's relief she even nodded disdainful at him and took place on the couch that was in front of the windows. With an annoyed sigh she looked at the man as if to say _you got one chance- if you're lucky_. However, Dr. Felds gaze didn't fade. What was it with these locals that they were so unimpressed by Miranda?

'Andrea and Miranda, I am so glad that you are here.'

'Well that makes one fool among us.' Miranda barbed. Still, the man frowned only slightly and then politely smiled. 'So I take it coming here was not your idea, Miranda.'

A glare that screamed obvious was his response.

He turned his head to Andy and smiled encouragingly. 'So could you perhaps tell me why you are here?'

Andy felt at a loss for words. ´Well, we´re here… because we have a daily meeting with you, as part of this trip.' She tried to keep it vague, to buy herself a little time in figuring out what to do.

'Yes. Could you tell me about this trip. Is this something that you wanted to do… Miranda?'

Miranda rolled her eyes, but gave him a fake smile afterwards. Who knew what he was reporting to Irv. 'I am here, with Andrea, because we needed a holiday.'

We? Andy thought? Since when is there a we? Dr. Feld turned his head towards Andy. 'So you agreed to come with Miranda I take it?'

'Yes.'

'Voluntarily?'

'Yes.' She blushed. He smiled encouragingly to her. Then continued in polite tone. 'Good. A holiday sounds like a break of patterns. Often people use that as a moment to reflect on the passed time. To see what has happed that is good, but also the things and moments that perhaps were inflicting hurt or have turned into scar tissue. Especially when it comes to interactions with others it is that we file those encounters as having influence on us. Taking the time to reflect on this can open up space to see structures and gain an agency on patterns of behaving. It is therefore that I am here to talk with you every day about your relation towards each other, to help you with this process of evaluating and perhaps changing the way you interact.

'I beg you a pardon?' Miranda hissed.

'Now it is perfectly understandable that there might be a hesitance to talk with a complete stranger about the dynamics between the two of you, so I want to stretch the fact that none of what is said within this room will leave the room.'

Fucking great, Andy thought, Irv send us to a freaking relationship therapist. Correction; send Miranda to a relationship therapist. It was a low blow, very low. To insinuate that Miranda wasn't 'good' with people, that she was unable to keep her husbands, that she was a dragon lady indeed.

'Our work-relationship has been acceptable.' Miranda snapped. She was definitely not pleased. Andy could do nothing but agree with her. It surprised her that Miranda hadn't walked out on dr. Feld, yet. Why was she still sitting on the couch?

'How long have you been together?' Dr. Feld focussed on Andy.

She decided to ignore his question and twist it into what seemed to be a polite yet nonetheless distant answer. 'I have been working for Miranda for two years and three months now.'

'And how is that going?'

'Well, you know… It is busy.' Andy was at a loss of what to do. But Miranda sat with her jaw clenched, avoiding every form of eye-contact however not dismissing dr. Feld, so she continued while fidgeting with her fingers. 'I mean, not in a bad way. In a good way. It is interesting and I learn a lot. The long hours are worth it and there are lots of benefits that compensate for…' She let the sentence fade away. She had wanted to say 'the lack of writing', but those were the things that she didn't want to talk about. Not think about either. She kept hiding away the need to write.

'It not perfect, but you know… Nothing ever is. I mean, I don't think there is ever a job that is flowers and candles all the time.' She smiled nervously.

He turned his head towards Miranda. 'But in your eyes it works well enough.'

Miranda refused to do anything than giving a blank yet freezing stare.

'Now the fact that you describe this meeting as work related tells already that there is too much focus on the mechanical part of the relationship instead of the personal experience of the relationship. The feeling that it needs to be an oiled machine more than a satisfying personal cooperation.'

Andy wasn't aware that they had a personal relationship to begin with. After looking at Miranda's face she knew her boss thought so too. Miranda sniffed and started to speak in a low frosty tone. 'I am telling you, really, your incompetent mind is somehow baffling. I already told you we are not here to solve our, non-existent personal relationship,-'

'So if not, perhaps you can tell me why you are here then?'

'I am here because that little pathetic man desired I should live by European standards although everyone knows that continent hasn't been alive since the fall of Rome!'

Andrea was surprised. Being her assistant for so long now had made her aware of exactly how closed Miranda was. And giving in to explain, albeit with anger and disdain, meant Miranda was beyond agitated, perhaps even… off balance. For a second she saw a glimpse of the woman in Paris.

'Am I correct when I hear in your words that you do not respond well to receiving advice from others?'

Andy almost couldn't hide a giggle. Almost, she was very fond of her own head. The therapist-guy was not only digging his grave deeper and deeper, he was also qualifying himself for the understatement-of-the-year-award. Apparently the line had also been crossed for her boss.

'You are correct in hearing that I am leaving, and that you will be out of a job before tomorrow.' Miranda gave one of her shark smiles. 'I hope your degree suits you well while listening to other people's problems with… ah… the food you're serving at a dining room. Come along Andrea.' Smoothly Miranda walked away. Andy gave another apologetic glance at dr. Feld and received a nod in return before stepping out of the room. Outside Miranda was walking a hellish pace. The only thing that belied her furious state, because her face seemed edged out of marble.

When Andy caught up she started to spit demands. 'I want him out of a job, right now. Call Lesly from press and get a public statement on his practice, then call Howard, I want a case before next weekend. I count driving back before four, make sure the plane requites proper staff this time and have the Lagerfeld meeting rescheduled for 2 pm tomorrow.'

Andy took another look at Miranda, at the hard lines that made up her beautiful face. Lines that she wanted to stroke, soften the edge around her jawline until it was relaxed again. Going back, she realised, would help nothing. So she took a deep breath and set her gaze on her bosses intense blue eyes.

'My apologies Miranda, but I won't.'

Miranda shut her mouth and glared at her while clenching her jaw a tiny bit. 'You won't?' It came out as a slow, drawn out sentence. Then a hard gleam appeared in her eyes. 'Pray tell, why won't you? Is there a lack of cell phone service? Has the Maine breeze left you out of voice?'

Andy's cheeks immediately turned a little red. 'I think it is important that you take a break. You know Nigel is perfectly capable of being your eyes and ears. He has trained in gossip for years after all. And this is too small to pick a fight over. Don't let Irv get you on this. It will only be fuel for something bigger. Get through the week, I'll manage the bulk of assistance work. We'll pretend to work on our…' she couldn't manage to say relationship 'meetings with Dr. Feld. Your schedule has been effectively cleared and it will give you leverage to use against him. You know, appear to be asleep and pounce when his throat is in cut-radius.' She was surprised and a bit disgusted by her own last sentence.

'Are you telling me what I should do?' Miranda's gaze was a mix of malice and surprise. Good, Andy thought. Surprise could work in her favour. It had before.

'No. I am suggesting something. I am explaining myself. Although I can imagine that it is difficult to understand, as it is a foreign concept to you.' Apparently Maine already started to have effect on her. But she couldn't help being on edge now that the full impact of a possible complete week with Miranda was becoming clear. She was nervous, and a bit angry that Miranda just never stopped giving her a hard time. 'So I'll give you until tonight. I arranged dinner, without lobster, according to standards. If you are so sure about giving in to Irv, then you can tell me by 8pm and I'll book a flight back for first thing in the morning. But I will be here for one day. Then at least one of us is grasping the concept of vacation. See you tonight Miranda.' Andy didn't know where she got the courage, but she turned around and walked into the sun. It was too late now to unsign her fate anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Do you know what this means buddies? That I'm not working on my thesis, buddies.  
All mistakes are mine. Such is life. **

* * *

_The only thing he is proned to do, is making sure that if you don't walk in with a problem, he'll make sure you won't leave without one. - Hope Springs (2012)  
_

* * *

Dinner was surprisingly civil. Apparently Miranda had decided to give the week a go, through the illuming sentence of 'did you find anywhere else to sleep or are we spending our joyous time in that little rag that clashes with humanity.'

To which Andrea unfortunately had to admit that she hadn't found anything else. All the accommodations had been fully booked. But even that hadn't made Miranda become nuclear. Andrea felt strange but relieved that Miranda had listened. Being with Miranda as a little bit more of an equal made all the difference. During dinner she tried to stick to their routine of work and thoroughly but decisively went through the schedule again. What meetings were moved to next week, the updates by Nigel, and the electronic version of the book. It would arrive every day, but earlier, thus preventing Miranda from working late on her 'holiday'. Miranda looked mildly annoyed by that little fact, definitely preferring that her employees spend their time on getting things right rather than presumably pleasing their boss with an undesired holiday.

Now they were back in front of the green house again. It was three in the afternoon, they had spent the whole morning on work and Miranda had held a skype session with Meisel who was currently in Italy covering a shoot for Runway on summer fabrics. Miranda had been pleased about the first results which made it more bearable to be around her during these circumstances. Andy knew Miranda felt like a trapped lion, forced to perform a week of tricks while she was destined to own the savanna.

'Morning.' Dr. Feld greeted them in a similar way with a similar sand coloured ensemble when they entered his office. Which made Andy assume that his whole wardrobe looked like that and it would be a matter of time before Miranda would verbally tear it apart. For now they took place on the couch again. Miranda on outer left, Andy on the outer right side of it. Andy tried hard to not think about Freud or any form of symbolic interpretation that Dr. Feld might bestow upon them. He offered tea and coffee but Miranda refused for the both of them.

'I'm glad you managed to get here today.' He spoke gently as he took place on the chair in front of them.

He said the same thing yesterday, and that went down in flames very fast so Andy was unsure how he managed to be still so positive. And from the disinterested look on Miranda's face she thought the same. Still she was happy he didn't make any further references to yesterday or the Miranda threatening him part. And he did seem sincere in his welcoming gestures.

'Now I would like to start off with an exercise which will help us approaching the topics that came up yesterday. As in most relations there can be a lot of scar tissue, emotional baggage that has been build up throughout time. Starting heads deep into addressing this might not be the preferable action for some couples. However it also should not be avoided, as this is the space to address these matters.'

Andy just kept on internally groaning. The whole of dr. Felds vocabulary was built of words that Miranda did not appreciate.

'Thus I'd like to suggest that we start off with telling one thing about what you like about the other. Something that you appreciate. So Miranda, what is a thing about Andy that you appreciate?' He nodded his head as to try to encourage the silver haired women, who barely resisted an eye roll.

It stayed silent for a few moments, until Miranda let out a humph and then a very inaudible 'you're effective.'

Andy couldn't believe what she heard.

'What do you mean by that Miranda? Is this work-related?' dr. Feld looked at her with a gentle smile.

'Of course it is work related! Miranda's hiss spit fire.

'Then it is a very good start, but you have to realise that we're not here to solve your working relationship but your personal one.'

Miranda did not agree with that comment, however only clenched her jaw as a reaction.

'So maybe you can try again. What is something you appreciate about Andy on a personal level?'

The silence was deafening.

Dr. Feld turned to Andy. 'Okay, so maybe you can go first Andy? If you don't mind?'

Andy nodded hesitantly. Better to get this hour over with, before Miranda murdered him and she had to call Lesley to minimize the press on "the accident with the therapist".

'Sure ehm…' Andy glanced around nervously. 'I eh… I like about Miranda… Personally… the way she… looks.' Her cheeks turned scarlet from the way it had come out.

'You mean you think she's attractive?'

The beginning of a smirk appeared on Miranda's face. Miranda probably thought it was a safe thing to say. She was the queen of fashion. It was her job to decide what looked good. A job she ruled over more than 17 years. She was used to being fawned over and being superficially admired.

'No… No I mean, yes, of course, but that is not what I meant. I meant… like on the phone… with the twins… the way she looks as if she's…' Andy let her sentence fade out, embarrassed about her confession. Miranda already head tons of leverage to fire her, and Andy would rather have a reason that wouldn't hurt Andy personally. These thoughts and feelings were not things she liked to share.

'You spy on me?' The smirk that had just graced Miranda's lips had instantly gone away and was replaced with disdain and even a little bit of shock.  
'No! Of course not. It is just… sometimes they call when you're at the office and I'm actually at my desk and when I look up because after 26 mails I need a micro-break and...' She was babbling, but she wasn't spying on Miranda. Not on purpose.

'So you eavesdrop.'

There was an angry undertone that made Andy cringe. This was exactly the reason why opening up to Miranda was not recommendable. Andy regretted her comment, and looked away from Miranda, observing the rest of the office and the spring weather outside. After a minute of silence she softly said, 'I'm sorry about making you feel like I eavesdropped on you. Part of my job is let things run as smoothly as possible and reading your body language is part of that. It caught me by surprise, the first time I saw you talking to your girls. It makes you look content and affectionate. Which looks good on you, that is all.' Andy cringed again about her use of Miranda's signature words. She felt vulnerable and embarrassed.

But Miranda made no comment on it. Andy didn't dare to look at her, yet the stretch of silence meant that she was overthinking something. When Miranda spoke it was mild and almost overthinking.

'Andrea's appearance is…not entirely unappealing.'

Dr. Feld smiled encouragingly and tried to prolong the moment. 'Do you think Andy is pretty?' He asked in what Andy thought was his non-threatening voice. It had the opposite effect with Miranda, who preferred the direct way rather than being handled with gloves.

The silver haired women sighed. 'I should tape-record myself, as you seem to be intent on asking every question twice.'

It was only then that Andy looked up in wonder, as she processed the words by meaning.

Miranda thought she was pretty.

'It is very good Miranda,' dr. Feld tried again, 'could you perhaps elaborate on-'

'No.' It was Miranda's definite answer. There was no discussion possible and dr. Feld seemed to acknowledge this as well.

Silence filled the room again. But Andy was too dazed to do anything about it. Gobsmacked with Miranda's admission and desperate to shut down all her bodily and emotional reactions to Miranda's words she had no extra space to safe the situation.

After a while dr. Feld let the tips of his fingers touch, the universal gesture of a thinking man. 'Hm. I am glad you both shared this with each other. Even though it might not feel beneficial right away, it is good to create a sphere in which personal feelings can be expressed.'

Andy studied her jeans. Miranda looked intently at dr. Feld.

'As there seems to be a lot of tension between you, I would like to propose a simple exercise for in between sessions to work through the uncomfortableness.' He looked at them both in a decisive but gentle way.

Andrea mentally braced herself what would come. Therapy with Miranda was complicated enough, but homework… well, even 'the fetching girl' could not make Miranda do therapeutic homework.

Dr. Feld continued. 'When being comfortable with each other in a psychological way holds too much pressure for one or both of the…'

He was _not_ going to say partners, Andy prayed.

'…persons, there are several different angles to take upon within communicating. Not all of our interactions are based on words. One of those ways is to create a more tangible fundament of comfort. I would like to stress that this is in no way a guarantee for evaporating tension, and one should be aware of their own and their partners-'

_Ugh_.

'- limitations and borders. However touch possesses the possibility to build trust in both physical and psychological ways. Thus, I suggest that try a more tactile approach of spending around ten minutes with your arms around each other to see what this-'

There was the sound of a door slamming. Miranda had left. Andy put her head in her hands. It just couldn't be any more uncomfortable, being asked to touch Miranda. Or the other way around. Letting her hands gliding through her hair she said 'Thank you dr. Feld, I think that is enough for today.'


	5. Chapter 5

**Small change, the story will be more then 6 chapters. But that might be evident from the pace that it takes. It is also already more then 5K. Still AU remember. Thank you for all your kind reviews and follows :)**

* * *

Andy walked along a little gravelled road, that lead to a building looking somewhat in between a house and a large barn. An old Shipyard, Andrea thought. Where the little ships were once build. Ships that – she imagined- gave home to rusty fisherman with permanent bags under their eyes as a result of the salt and wind and lack of sleep because the baby was crying at all hours at night and the workday was so very long.

A little sign was in front of the door. It said OPE, because the N had faded away a long time ago and was only visible in a slight change of dustcolour. She wondered if the building ever closed, as the sign seemed like it hadn't been turned around in years. Curiously she stepped inside.

It was unexpectedly light. The building used the available daylight well. Wherever there were no windows, shelves full of objects used or found at sea were displayed, giving it an atmosphere between a big beachcombers house and a museum. An old, rumpled man full of wrinkles was sleeping in a chair. He looked like an old sailor with his beard and sun-dried skin. People here were different from the big city habitants.

She decided upon letting him sleep while she strolled along the aisles. There were no signs at all, so she tried to determine what the purpose of each object was. It worked well in distracting her thoughts from her conflict with Miranda. Old fishnets and buoys were alternated with shells and stones. There were old shoes covered in moss that people had probably lost at the beach only to be swallowed by the sea before being spit out again.

Each object became a story of a family, sea life and the earth's determination to wash and dry. Everything showed the erosion of material, strung and worn by high tide and low tide, inspiration and respiration. She felt calm and a little rosy at the end of her self-determined tour. Her thoughts returned to the woman who walked out a few hours ago.

Miranda had admitted that Andy was, in some sorts, attractive. It was a heavy but warm knowing that spread through her ribcage and settled in her lower belly. And despite the again problematic ending of the session, she felt like she had gotten something significant, something that she would not trade with anyone in the world.

Accidentally she stumbled on a small ton and the sleeping sailor made a little sniffing sound before opening his eyes. If he was surprised Andy was in the shipyard he didn't look like it. In fact, he looked like he was about to fall asleep again when she cleared her throat and said 'Excuse me, is it possible to buy a souvenir of some sorts?'

'A souvenir?' It sounded groggy, but he smirked. 'Go ahead poppy, everything in this museum is for sale, that way it stays a temporary collection.' With that he pushed is blue navy hat over his eyes again and started snoring. Andy took this as her cue that the conversation was finished.

Positively surprised she walked along the shelves again. There were so many lovely things to choose from. She took her sweet time looking through it again until her eye fell on a big shell in the corner of one of the shelves. It was a little bigger then the palm of her hand and seemed rough around the edges. A st. Jacobs shell, she recalled. She didn't know whether the shells were common here in Maine, but it was as white as parts of Miranda's hair and from the inside faded into a soft pink like the woman's cheeks were at the rarest of times. Without further thought she pulled a few dollars from her pocket and put them on the counter. Carefully wrapping the shell in her purse she hoped it wouldn't break on the way to the lodge.

* * *

Miranda sat at a bar nearby a dock. Which dock she didn't know and she neither cared to, but she was cold and tired and angry. There were a few men sitting at tables, mostly looking like fishers. Locals, like everyone in this goddamned tiny town. There was a reason why Miranda lived in New York, not having to deal with locals was one of them. The bartender, a woman with firm arms and a few tattoos approached her while polishing beer glasses. 'What can I do for you?'

'How is your red wine?' Miranda could use a drink, no matter the hour of the day. It probably was late afternoon anyhow. And nobody she knew or –more important- that knew her, were here so she could have a glass to help against the impending headache that undoubtly would proceed this disastrous afternoon.

'Do you like wine?'

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was it with these locals? Perhaps the human brain could not handle that much salty water. 'Yes.'

'Then you might want to go for the white one.'

This made her lips purse. But she ordered a glass of white nonetheless. It took a minute and when she took a first sip she relaxed a little. It also started her thoughts. She had lost her professionalism for a moment this afternoon. For some unfathomable reason she had not been able to see Andrea so distraught, stressed. And thus she had admitted to finding the woman…fetching. She should have known it would give way to disaster, but for one of the rare times Miranda had wanted to reach out.

Andrea had not reacted, and even though that was for the best, somewhere inside her it brought a sharp sting to her body. It was not as if she was entirely unaware of her feelings, it was just that exploring those feelings, even within herself, wouldn't be beneficial for anyone. She had built up a life that existed in majority of her job and her girls. Her husbands had been placed lowly at the list of things that were important to her, and that was the reason why they had cheated and left. That was that, and she was now at an age and place in her career in which she didn't need to fulfil a certain expectation of normativity anymore. It didn't, however, give her freedom either. A scandal was still a scandal and she had not been unhappy all these years with this dormant area of desire. She had been content, mostly, and that had been enough.

Sometimes, on the days that the girls were at their fathers and she felt lonely she thought about gliding a hand over that beautiful stomach and hip. About letting her fingers dip into the hollow between Andrea's collarbone and her shoulder. It calmed her, fantasising about it in a sort of abstract way, even though she often tried to compensate it with being even sharper to her assistant the next day.

'So what´s your deal?' The bartender asked.

Miranda tried to glare her away, but it was for naught. The bartender kept looking at her with a neutral gaze that said 'if you want to talk, be my guest, if not, fine with me as well'. Right before she turned to get her third beer glass to polish Miranda started speaking.

'I do not enjoy,' Miranda took another sip of her wine and tried to finish her sentence a tad faster than it had started 'sharing a bed with men.' Her cheeks were about to turn a little pink but she willed it away.

'Well, you're not the only one.' Miranda looked up, the women was not joking her. Still, the bartender smiled a half grin. 'Welcome to the club honey. I haven't slept aside a man since 1996. Just a quickie and then they better leave or I'll make them. He Pete,' the bartender lifted her chin towards one of the burly men at a table. 'what about you? You enjoy sleeping with men?'

'No ma'am, not my taste.' He answered.

'Mark, what about you?'

'Can't say I don't like it once in a while but every day? Don't see it happening.'

'See? Mark is even like _that_, if you know what I mean. Don't worry about it lady. If you don't like it, you don't have to.'

Miranda gave a small nod. It was not exactly what she meant, but the bartender had been down to earth about it. It felt as a relief, that she had let it out once. She ordered another wine and decided to nurture this small revelation.

* * *

Andy was typing away at her laptop when Miranda opened the door of the lodge. The silver haired woman strode in with elegance, but also with a little more sway than Andy expected. To her relief Miranda looked calm, and gave no signal of a snow storm coming up.

'The book is ready, it came in 15 minutes ago.' Andy tried to say as neutral as possible. It was considerably later then the agreement but as Miranda had been away it didn't matter.

'Let me just call my girls first.' Miranda took out her phone and spend a little bit more time than usual to find Greg's number, before she softly but vibrantly talked with her daughters. It was almost as if Miranda was… a little tipsy?

Andy tried to mind her own busyness, well aware of Miranda's reaction this afternoon to her 'eavesdropping'. She fired some last e-mails to Elias Clarke and a text to Lilly that she was still alive and all was well. She didn't mention a word about what transpired, but she figured she would not have done it any differently if the circumstances had been different.

Miranda had ended her phonecall and was now in the bathroom preparing for bed. Apparently the book would wait until tomorrow. Andy decided she should do the same, prepare for bed, and change into her pyjamas while she had the privacy. After Miranda appeared again she slipped into the bathroom before the woman could say anything. She brushed her teeth, removed her make-up and when she reappeared all the lights were off already safe for the bedside lamp near Miranda's bed. Miranda herself sat awkwardly at the edge, her gaze a little clouded but Andy couldn't figure out whether it was the alcohol or Miranda's mood. Still she looked at the women questioningly as if she asked what she could do for her. After a moment Miranda shrugged her head towards the bed, the way she had done when Andy had to step into the lift with her a few months before. So Andy sat on the edge next to her, uncertain of how to proceed. She looked at Miranda with a waiting expression.

'Well.' Miranda looked at her with a tense face. 'Let's get this over with shall we?'

Andy nodded and hoped she hadn't misinterpreted when she clumsily stretched out her arms. It was awkward, more so because she sat at a considerable distance so she had to lean in uncomfortably far. Naturally Miranda was not prepared to give in herself. So Andy scooted closer, and Miranda tensed more which in return made her cramp up too. This is not working, Andy thought. They were only worsening each other's reaction with their freezing. So she willed herself to relax a little. She tried to compartmentalize her bodily sensations, the softness of Miranda's frame, the warmth that she radiated, her smell which bore traces of perfume but mostly consisted of just Miranda. Gradually they both relaxed, Miranda mostly in reaction to Andy. It was as if Andy drowned in all the sensations, and soon she could not distinct them from each other anymore. The smell so good, Miranda's body so comforting that she couldn't keep her eyes open. The day had been a maelstrom and Miranda was warm and oh so soft. Before she knew it, sleep overtook her. Leaving a stunned Miranda holding her resting body, carefully tracing a hand over her shoulder while thinking _what am I to do Andrea, what am I to do?_


End file.
